Drake Chronicles: 02 Blood Feud (21 page)

There was probably a real y good reason why I shouldn’t agree with her and let her lead me out of the caves. As soon as the blood returned to my brain, I’d remember what it was.

She nibbled on my earlobe and I knew I was in trouble.

Serious trouble. Vampire megalomaniacs and civil wars had nothing on this girl.

“Come with me, Logan.”

It was physical y painful to pul away. The smoke seemed thicker, it clung to her hair and stuck in my throat.

She ran a silver awl needle across the delicate skin of her inner wrist. I could see the blue rivers of her veins. Warm fragrant blood pooled on her winter-cool skin, across her arm to drip on the ground. She held up her red wrist.

“Drink, Logan. I want you to.”

Self-control around fresh blood was never exactly easy for a very young vampire. I knew if I hadn’t drunk my fil earlier that evening I’d have been utterly lost. Isabeau and blood were just too much to resist when put together. As it was I had to clench my back molars, trying to stop my fangs from protruding. I was only half successful.

She smiled, licked a drop of blood from her fingertip.

“I’m offering, Logan.”

I snarled when my fangs won the battle with my gums and clenched jaw. I grabbed her elbow and dragged her toward the lake.

She giggled.

Definitely not the real Isabeau.

The smoke fol owed us. Her blood trailed pink ribbons in the milky water.

“What are you doing?” she asked nervously. She shifted, bared her leg invitingly.

bared her leg invitingly.

But I’d already remembered what she’d told me earlier, when we were in spirit form. The trio of fat candles flickering on my left sent just enough light skittering on the pearly surface of the lake. I jerked her a little closer, angling her so I could see her reflection.

The lake might not be an actual mirror, but it was close enough.

I saw the smoke in the vague shape of a woman. It was the first time I’d come this close to the old myth of vampires not having a reflection.

I let go of her with a stifled curse, jerking back so quickly I would have spun her off her feet if she’d been real. I was alone suddenly in the smoke, grinding my heel in the dirt as I turned to glare at the Hounds. They weren’t standing in the shadows anymore.

Kala didn’t smile but she looked faintly pleased. “Last test,” she murmured.

“Which is what exactly?” I asked suspiciously.

“Trial by combat.”

I nearly sighed. “Of course it is,” I muttered, unsurprised. I might have been more worried if I hadn’t been defending myself against six brothers my whole life. And if I didn’t have a mother who thought she was a ninja.

“Morgan.” Kala motioned a woman out of the crowd. She looked barely sixteen, wearing a gray velvet dress that fel to her bare feet. Her hair hung to her knees in three fat braids, al clattering with bone beads, some painted blue, some gold. She was graceful, dainty, smal as a bal et dancer.

I wasn’t fooled.

Especial y when she leaped at me, without even a warning battle shriek—even the tel tale sound of her sword scraping its scabbard as she pul ed it free was nonexistent. I wasn’t going to be able to dance my way out of this one. I went low, rol ing under her feet before she landed. When I flipped back up into a standing position she was already spinning to face me.

I had to leap backward so the tip of her sword didn’t take my nose right off. The bracelets around her wrist jingled prettily.

Since I happened to like my face where it was, I turned into my lean and kicked out. I got her in the solar plexus but not with enough force to actual y cause any damage. She’d anticipated me and was fast enough to avoid the ful punch of my heel. She grabbed my boot as it passed and yanked hard. I fel back, smashing my elbow and shoulder into the uneven rock. The flames of the candles by my head trembled.

This was ritual to the Hounds; they didn’t hol er or clap, only chanted and shook the occasional rattle.

It was both annoying and creepy.

When she came at me again, I stuck out my leg and tried to trip her. She stumbled but didn’t fal . It did give me enough of a pause to get back up though. I flicked my hair out of my eyes.

Blood smeared over my back from the rocks, dripping down my arm. Double and triple sets of fangs extended al around me.

Morgan’s nostrils flared.

And then there was just no escaping her attack.

She jabbed at me like a hornet, her sword drawing blood at She jabbed at me like a hornet, her sword drawing blood at my wrist, arm, chest, thigh. I fought her off as long as I could, landing a few blows but nothing definitive enough to win me the fight. And then, somehow, I was sailing through the air. I landed at Isabeau’s feet, her boot digging into my ribs.

So much for proving myself to her.

The tip of Morgan’s sword, already stained with my blood, rested on my Adam’s apple. I froze and tried not to swal ow. It seemed to take forever before Morgan stepped back, sheathed her sword, and glided away. I swal owed convulsively. Isabeau crouched down, half smiling.

“That was bril iant.”

It almost made my total humiliation bearable. I pushed up out of my sprawl. “Did you miss the part where she kicked my ass?” She shrugged one shoulder. “Morgan always wins. She’s our champion.”

I frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“It wasn’t about winning. Only two Hounds have beaten her in the last one hundred and fifty years.”

“Then what the hel was it about?” I held up my hand. “You know what, never mind. I don’t think I care.” Kala approached us. “Wel done, Logan Drake. We now consider you a brother.”

“Yeah? Cool.”

She handed me my shirt and jacket, and a leather thong with a dog’s tooth wrapped in copper wire. “This was one of Charlemagne’s baby teeth. It marks you as one of us and has magic worked into it.”

I slipped it over my head as the Hounds traded rattles for drums. The bruises around my right eye pulsed. “Thanks.” The drumbeats echoed al around us and a fire was lit in the center of the cave.

“Ordinarily we would celebrate and dance until dawn.” Kala lowered her voice. “But I understand you have matters to attend to?”

I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Isabeau turned to me. “Yes, we should go.” She slanted me a glance as we climbed the rough-hewn steps to the balcony-type ledge. “Logan?”

“Yes?” I pul ed my clothes back on even though the fabric stuck to my wounds. So much for trying to keep them clean.

“How did you know it wasn’t real y me?”

“Are you kidding? Your eyebal s could be on fire and you wouldn’t bat your lashes at me like that.”

CHAPTER 19

LOGAN

We reached the ledge when the barking started.

At first it sounded like it was coming from far away, echoing down the stone passageways. Once it reached the main cavern the other dogs joined the chorus, barking, growling, howling.

The hairs on my arms stood up. The Hounds went on high alert instantly, reaching for weapons. I strained to hear beyond the dogs’ frantic singing. Kala clapped her hands and spoke a one-word command, sharp as broken glass. I’d have shut up too if I were a dog. Hel , I’d have shut up anyway.

Isabeau tilted her head. I heard a faint thump, three long, one short, as if something was hitting a pipe. It clanged toward us, so shril I thought the water of the lake might have rippled slightly.

“Attack,” Isabeau said, mostly for my benefit. I expected everyone else there knew exactly what those series of sounds had meant. Al I wanted was to get out and warn my family about Montmartre’s attack. “A warning for battle and—” She stopped, clearly stunned to hear two more short clangs. “And to hide,” she elaborated final y, as if such a thing had never occurred to any of them before.

I hated to think what could make the entire pack of Hounds, on their own territory and with their war dogs, blanch.

I wasn’t eager to hang around and find out.

Discretion was definitely the better part of valor sometimes

—plus, someone had to save Isabeau from herself.

I knew for a fact that she would jump into the fray, regardless of the danger. I was frankly amazed she hadn’t gotten herself kil ed already.

Morgan was standing guard over Kala, ushering the shamanka toward a narrow crevice in one of the far wal s, hung with cobwebs. Most of the dogs went with them. Isabeau snapped her fingers and pointed for Charlemagne to join them.

A few of the more ferocious ones stayed behind with the Hounds. The efficient way they stepped into battle formation would have brought tears of joy to my mother’s eyes.

A shriek echoed toward us. I whipped one of my daggers into my hand. Isabeau lifted her sword grimly. I heard scuffling, grunting, and then a Hound trailing blood from a head wound stumbled onto the ledge. I nearly skewered him. The fact that he col apsed at my feet saved his life and the future of the al iance between our tribes.

“
Hel-Blar,
” he gurgled, choking. “Dozens of them.”

“Shit,” I said as Isabeau and I stared at each other wide-eyed.

I went cold al over. “It’s misdirection.”

“What do you mean?” she asked as Hounds scrambled up to wait on either side of the tunnel. Someone dragged their wounded compatriot out of the way so he wouldn’t be trampled once the fighting began.

“It’s Montmartre,” I said. “It has to be. He wants to discredit our tribes to each other to make sure none of you come to our aid.” I went even colder, if that was possible. I wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if ice had formed in my mouth. “He’s going for the royal courts tonight,” I said. “Now. They’ve moved up the attack and this is how he’s going to keep the Hounds out of the way.”

Her hands curled into fists. “Greyhaven might have sensed me at Montmartre’s. He would know my spirit signature. He’d have reacted accordingly.”

“I have to get out. I have to get to my family.” She nodded. “I know.”

“Show me the nearest passageway.”

“This way.” She led me to the other side of the water and shimmied down a rope, swinging onto another ledge behind the curtain of white water. When the thick rope swung back, I grabbed it and fol owed her. The ledge was slippery and the thunder of the waterfal shook through my bones. Isabeau fumbled for a flashlight and switched it on, sending the beam bouncing down a tunnel that was real y no more than a crack in the rock.

“Parts of it are so dark not even we can see,” she explained, handing me another flashlight with a strap to fit it over my head.

She was fitting her own, like a headband. The light blinded me from seeing her expression. “You shouldn’t go alone,” she said.

The clash of swords floated down, barely audible.

I stared at her briefly. “You’re coming with me?” I hadn’t I stared at her briefly. “You’re coming with me?” I hadn’t expected that, wouldn’t have imagined for a single moment that she’d leave the Hounds to help me. She turned away to face the passageway, light swinging.

“I expect I’l do more good with you than I would here. Kala didn’t ask me to join her, which means she wants me to safeguard the al iance. Why else would she have insisted on your initiation so soon after meeting you?” I didn’t real y have time to talk her out of it. “Thank you,” I murmured as we wedged ourselves into the damp tunnel, rock scraping each of my shoulders. I turned sideways. There was stil barely room to maneuver. I real y hoped this crevice led in the right direction. They al looked the same from the outside. I real y didn’t relish the thought of getting stuck and starving to death inside a mountain. Hardly an effective way to stop Montmartre.

We crept along slowly, too slowly for both our tastes but there wasn’t anything we could do about it. There was no way to move faster since the tunnel seemed to be getting even more narrow instead of widening up to the sky.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” I muttered as I scraped another layer of skin off the side of my neck and the back of my hand. The flashlight speared Isabeau’s back, the fal of her dark hair, pale glimpses of skin. She turned her head slightly, reached up to flick the light off.

“We’re nearly there. If we keep these on we’l give ourselves away.”

I shut mine off as wel . After a moment of blinking away the sudden change in light I could differentiate al the shades of black and gray. If I’d stil been human, it would have been unrelieved pitch-black. I could smel a change in the air too. It was stil cold and damp but every so often a warm breath of leaves and mud snuck its way in. It wasn’t long before I could hear the wind.

We stumbled out into a very smal cave that opened up to the glimmer of stars and the shifting of branches from a stunted tree near the opening. The outcrop was relatively narrow, we’d have to climb our way down. I reached for my cel phone.

“I should cal my parents. Can I get reception here?” Isabeau nodded. “You should be able to. It’s not reliable but at least it shouldn’t be blocked by magic this far away from the main cavern.”

The faceplate of my phone was cracked and it wouldn’t turn on at al . “That just figures,” I said, frustrated. “I wasn’t sure I believed in magic before, but I total y believe in curses now.” I stuffed it back into my pocket, disgusted. “I must have landed on it when Morgan was kicking my ass. It’s useless.” Kind of like I was starting to be. It was doing nothing for my mood.